A five month project was recently completed. You might have thought champagne was in order, but to be honest, the end was anticlimactic. There was no celebration, no sighs of relief, just a small but persistent numbness. It had taken so very long, you see. The project itself was fraught with delays and disagreements, but it's completed now. It's done and done nicely. Soon, the feeling will return and it'll be, Those five long months? Pffft.
September 3, 2020
What if you treat yourself nicely. Have you tried that? I'm serious.
September 4, 2020
I have a buddy I would get together with once a month and we would shoot the breeze over a couple of beers. Well, I haven't seen him since March because of the pandemic but I recently ran into him at the grocery. Dude has put on a good 30 pounds. His cart was full of junk food. He seemed depressed. He said he didn't have COVID but it was killing him just the same. Oh cruel virus must thou ruin everything?!
September 6, 2020
We all have people we hate. They disappoint at every turn. Take Trump. Please.
September 7, 2020
She was a 9 out of 10 on the handsome scale. He was a solid 2. At first one would have thought they were work colleagues or maybe even cousins, but when they started snogging in public it grew mysterious. Were they actually a couple? Was she an escort? Was he a reclamation project? Their relationship, if indeed there was one, seemed inexplicable. She was sooooo good looking and he was sooooo not. Sure, there could be a million reasons as to why they were together, but like a mathematician telling you that 1+1 equals 3, you know how some things in life just don't make sense?
September 8, 2020
I went through a factory filled with robots. They were welding, brazing, riveting, screwing, tightening, gluing and effortlessly lifting heavy metal objects here and there all at once. I didn't so much see what was being built as I was taken by the mechanical choreography that just begged to be put to music. I saw a modern day Fantasia. Everyone else saw a Toyota.
September 9, 2020
Overheard a father and son playing catch.
-- Good throw. Check this out, son.
-- Ow. What was that?
-- My fastball. Pretty good, eh?
-- Don't throw it so hard, Dad, it hurts.
-- How are you going to make it to the pros if you can't catch a 50 mile an hour fastball?
-- I caught it. I just said it hurt.
-- We gotta toughen you up. More fastballs!
-- What do you mean no?
-- You're intentionally throwing a rock hard lethal weapon at the speed of a car at a 10 year old kid. You don't think that's child abuse?
-- Huh, I never thought of it that way.
-- Well start.
September 10, 2020
Had an older Wi-Fi ranger extender that barely reached the second floor of our house. We'd lived with it for years and had gotten inured to the spotty coverage. Then the cable modem died and when our provider told me that the latest modem he was sending me was 5 generations past the one that died, I immediately thought of our old Wi-Fi range extender. How good are the new ones? I bought a brand new one and hooked it up. Not only does it reach the second floor of our hose, a neighbour who lives on the street below us told me that our network just showed up in his list of available hot spots - at 5 bars. Ah technology.
September 12, 2020
I was recently asked by a new reader about the picture that I use for KeithSpeak.
From left to right, that is Maddie, Sophie and Tuck.
They are all Alaskan Malamutes.
Maddie and Sophie are sisters.
Tuck weighs 150 pounds and the girls come in at about 120 apiece.
They are standing at the top of the basement stairs while I, at the bottom, am shooting up at them.
I believe I cooed, "Who's a good dog," before I snapped the pic.
September 14, 2020
Attention Major League Baseball.
Can't tell if that slider is on the plate or off?
Not sure if his foot/hand touched the plate on that slide?
I have an immediate fix for one of Major League Baseball's "homier" flaws - the varying degrees of subjective umpiring. Here is something that could be implemented in every ballpark inside of 15 minutes, aid the men in black with their calls and make the players, coaches and fans less upset with the blown ones:
Make home plate black.
All of it.
Not just the border or edges.
A white baseball will be obvious if it caught any of the plate or not.
The contrast will be useful, pronounced and egalitarian; still subjective to the ump's call, but more fair for all involved.
This is a simple, minor change that could have huge implications.
Has anyone ever tried a black home plate?
September 16, 2020
Overheard two women at the dentist office.
-- God, does my mouth hurt.
-- I know why it hurts.
-- Yeah, I think my jaw is out of alignment.
-- Quit blowing Benny every time he asks.
-- What? You're saying my mouth hurts because I give too many blow jobs?
-- That's what I'm saying.
-- God, Candace... My jaw is always sore...
-- Benny won't like it.
-- If he loves me he'll let me do it less so I can feel better.
-- It's suppose to make him feel better.
-- It's my mouth we're talking about.
September 17, 2020
WHITE HOUSE CONVERSATIONS
-- Mr. President, I think we ought to do what the General suggests.
-- General schmemmable, schlemmable, stinky. General stinky.
-- What was that, sir?
-- Geeble flock coochie mama.
-- Sir, I don't understand what you're saying.
-- It works! That's my new strategy, see. I'm just gonna make up words and say nothing that makes any sense whatsoever and have everybody wonder just what the hell I'm thinking and saying and doing. It's perfect! I won't have to answer to the media! To anyone! I'll just make shit up!
-- But you do that already, sir. You make up words and lies and say nothing that makes any sense to anybody and everyone wonders just what the hell you're thinking.
-- What?! What did you say? You calling me a liar?
-- Sir, we in the military think-
-- Suckers and losers! You're fired! Who are you? Get this man out of here! Nobody talks to the empor- uh, President that way. Another sucker and loser. Can you believe that guy? Send Jared in, I got a hankerin' for something greasy, and I'm not talkin' fast food. God, I hate this job. Only 12 more years to go.
September 18, 2020
It's the day after the party. You don't remember how you got home. You glance out the window and see your car. Did you drive? That must have been sketchy. You don't remember what you did at the party. You check your phone. No texts. Couldn't have messed up too bad. Maybe things went all right. Maybe you had a good time. But you can't remember any of it. You look in the mirror. How did you get a black eye? And where did those bruises come from? Were you in a fight? Think. But you don't remember anything. You check your phone again. Nothing. You look out the window. Damn, the whole driver's side is scraped and smashed the entire length of the car. Did you sideswipe a tree, another car, a building? You stare at it but you can't remember how it got there. You slump down on the couch. Your head is killing you. Try as you might, you can't remember anything past about 4 o'clock yesterday afternoon. Just before your first drink. Alcohol, whoo.
September 19, 2020
I have been asked by a literary site to recommend books. I don't like doing this because there's always the contentious who object to my choices and feel compelled to let me know about it. Like I need my chops busted by Roland from Indianapolis because I left the fucking Bible off my list. Instead, I shall refer them (and you, if so inclined - but not Roland) to the 45 books I keep closest to me. This says as much about me as the books themselves. Ahem, I give you The Stacks.
September 22, 2020
I have a friend who is a Trump supporter. I told him that we should never speak of politics because I would hate to break up a friendship over a twat like Trump. He agreed. And that is how you deal with a widdle baby like the whiny orange scab - ignore him. Without an audience he's just a deluded old man lying to himself.